Maybe this is all
a great illusion of mine—
a dependent heart’s story
I tell myself
just to ease the ache.

But I have been praying.
And I want to believe
God is answering—
giving me wisdom,
guidance,
clarity.

That our marriage
still has a purpose.
That we
still have a story
left to tell.

I am
deliberately
destroying our family.

They say a wise woman
builds her home—
I am removing every brick
we so carefully
stacked.

But do not blame
my wisdom,
or the lack of it.

If only I could show you
all the possible endings
of our story—
the ones I’ve built and rebuilt
in my mind and heart—
and still
it would not be enough
for you to forgive me,
for me to forgive myself,
for the shame
of becoming
a beggar
pleading for life.

Jesus, son of David—
have mercy on me.

I was thinking about the hornero bird today
how it builds its little house
Really, God gives it everything
just like that, for free
So why doesn’t He do the same for me?
Tell me where to find the clay
install in my mind
the coordinates
to build my home
and be
happy in it

Stars above, so soft and bright,
Shine on Gaza through the night.
Hold each child in quiet grace,
Bring them hope and a safe place

Let them dream, let them play,
Let them see a peaceful day.
Hear this prayer, so small and true.
Love and light for children too.

God above, so kind and near,
Keep the children safe from fear.
Give them beds and skies so blue,
And let them laugh like others do.

Lord, when I pray and don't receive
That which I pray for, I still believe
In the god who answers honest prayers
And shoulders all His people's cares,
The god who's Father, Spirit, and Son,
Who's one in three and three in one,
The god who heroically chose to die
For sinners, the god who cannot lie,
The god who's only good and true,
The only god who's GOD—who's You.

Prayer, you say?

Is that the Magnificat or a Hail Mary?
Is that a shout or a whisper?
Is that a chorus or a lone voice?
Is that liturgy
or are you dancing to free jazz?

Today, it will have to be jazz.

------------------------
Prayer, you say?

Is that a hail Mary or the Magnificat?
Is that a whisper or something louder?
Is that a lone voice or a chorus?
Is that free jazz
or are you leaning on liturgy?

Today, I need liturgy.

i'm a lost soul,
ash for pieces,
stranded
with failures
that pray
in quiet memories,
to be remembered.

My methods to run away have been eradicated to ash and steam, always hot at the moment.

The place where my heart resides is only hazardous, confusing itself with toxins.

The place where the brain commutes with the rest is not functioning.

One thing holding you captive to chains, your imagination carrying you to somewhere else.

Listen to the doubters, they say “You’ll never stop.”

Like a tunnel all hollow their only echoes are denial.

Whatever situation you're in, plead with two hands to take it away.

Even when tears dont fall and it's hot outside, outcry to make it work.

On the two knees you use to stabilize yourself, look up and watch the clouds drift as time does.

Intense focus on the clouds as they move inside time and intense focus on the conflict inside.

Cry out more to make it payout, because if all your efforts are in vain, something is not working.

Your voice, a lullaby
to my restless nights—
an embrace from
someone I’ve never known.

It lays down with me
here in my tomb,
awaiting ascension.
It knocks at the sepulchre
of my subconscious.

I yearn to know you.
Your rituals are devotions.
I long to learn from the gods.
Divinity has graced this sepulchre,
tapping the hard walls of this tomb.

Is this the voice of salvation,
or an echo of loss?
Am I ascending to heaven,
or are you descending with me to hell?

Your voice digs deep into my core,
down to my stone-cold being.
My flesh has rotted—
bled down to the marrow—
yet the feathers of your wings
have graced my lost soul.

In this sepulchre,
you knocked at my tomb.
You offered no redemption—
yet your presence is a confession.

A siren with feathers,
your presence lingers,
even without knowing you.

Your soul echoes within me.
Your songs, are sacred runes—
they cry and bleed,
like the river that flows through me.

Something ancient awakes,
knocking on these sepulchre walls.
It transcends heaven, hell, and earth—
an otherworldly communion,
carved out beyond mortal flesh.

Your voice lies beside me in this tomb.
A lingering presence,
keeping me grounded
as I await ascension.


- N.V. 🥀

There was a time not so long ago when my head hung down and my spirits were low
Forever in a funk and moving slow
I needed a pick-me-up to help me go
My spirits were crushed and I had no faith in trust
Down on myself and feeling pretty low
My back against the wall with nowhere to go
God came calling
He showed himself to me
In all of his glory, he made me see
How much better life can be……
If I believe in his story
Believe in his faith
Believe in the sacrifices that he made
I can live each day better than the rest
No longer broken beaten and depressed
I can live without worry
Without hate
In Jesus name, God is great!